To Wrangle a Dixon
by VerifiablyInsane
Summary: Daryl comes back to the prison with some scrapes that need to be cleaned out. Rick is just happy that Daryl came back but takes it upon himself to make sure the hunter is ok when he won't let the women from Woodbury tend to him. Daryl/Rick Slash
1. Chapter 1

The sweat glistening on his skin, dripping down his arms in small rivers did not go unnoticed as Daryl hauled the deer carcass through the gate that Carl and Carol had opened for him. He looked up at Rick as he came through, the sheriff with his hands on his hips just eying the battered man as he walked in, deer dragging behind him. "Lost the truck. Ran out of gas. We'll have to go back for it. I didn't think it'd take that much. There might be a leak," he said matter of factly as he dropped the legs and bent down to inspect his kill. "Meat should still be good though."

Rick just nodded as several people came running down to help Daryl with the deer. They hoisted it up on their shoulders and hauled it off to be cleaned for dinner that night. The whole camp slowly started to come out of the prison, mumbles being heard from them all. Word spread quickly when Daryl was seen walking up as extra support was needed to fend off the walkers from attacking him and the best meal they had had in weeks. A feast was definitely in order tonight.

Rick couldn't help the smile that formed on his face at the sight of the younger man. Every day when he walked out those gates, he worried that he would never see him again. Though, rumor is that it is impossible to kill a Dixon unless he does it himself. That's a theory that Rick would never like tested with this Dixon. He clapped him on the back as Daryl stood, sending dirt flying from the leather vest. "Guess I should get my clothes washed, huh?" Daryl laughed.

"I'm sure Carol would be happy to help you with that," Rick jested with a nonchalant point in her direction by the gate.

The joke fell flat as the hard features on Daryl's face scrunched up and he shook his head, eying the sheriff sideways, saying quietly, "Rather do it myself."

"I'm sure she'd be happy to-"

"Just not interested, Rick," he interrupted, dragging his eyes up his body starting from the boots and finally landing on the baby blues. "Fuckin' tired. I did just haul a deer back here for y'all, ya know."

"Well then grab a shower and some sleep and we'll get you when food is ready."

A twisted smile crept across Daryl's face, his voice lowering slightly. "A shower first huh? Why you so obsessed with me bein' clean? You wanna come cuddle with me in my sleep?"

Rick shrugged, his own smile turning slightly suggestive. "Maybe - if you keep bringing deer back like that."

Daryl blushed and looked around making sure no one had noticed this slight change in conversation. A little louder, he repeated, "Fuckin' tired. Goin' to lay down."

Rick just nodded, watching as their best hunter stalked back into the cell block. He knew when he saw the man later he would still have the same dirt streaks on his skin and have on the same dirty clothes.

Making sure Carl and Carol were back on guard, Rick went back to his garden. There was some tilling that needed to happen if they were going to get their seeds in the ground in time for harvest before the hard winter came. Half an hour later, he looked up to see one of the Woodbury women coming towards him, walking with a purpose. Leaning on the handle of the tiller, he waited for her to approach him. "He's a wild animal!" she huffed. Rick's eyebrows raised, immediately knowing who she was talking about. When his stance didn't change, she continued ranting in muttered stops and starts about "cleaning the wounds" and "peroxide" and "thrashing."

Rick snorted, picking up his tools and walking towards the cell block. "You have to treat him like a trapped badger. Trapped badgers don't like to be bothered like that," he laughed slightly, knowing that wasn't the full problem but not willing to tell this girl that Daryl was just Daryl and didn't take well to strangers, especially not to strangers who tried to kill him previously. "I'll handle it. Where is he?"

When Rick walked in cell block C, Daryl was breathing fire through his nose leaning over the bar from his perch. The women not on duty elsewhere were gathered at the other end of the cell block, looking as uninterested as possible but still keeping a weary eye on the agitated man above them. Daryl's eyes lit on Rick the second he walked through the door, Rick just grinning up at him. Daryl huffed and pushed off the bar, wandering from his sight and back into his cell. The Woodbury women handed him a cloth, a rag in a bowl full of water, and the peroxide, giving short and curt instructions on where to look for the wounds, and quickly left the room. Slowly, he ascended the stairs, the grin never leaving his face as he laughed at this situation. "The fuck you doin', Rick?" Daryl growled at him from where he lay as the sheriff approached the landing.

Rick looked down at him from just outside the bars. "The ladies came to get me to handle the fire breathing dragon."

Daryl snorted again, rolling over, giving Rick his back. "I'm fine. I told them not to touch me. I didn't hit them if that's what you're here for."

"Naw. Just wondering why you'd turn down the opportunity to have a sponge bath from a pretty woman instead of me."

Daryl rolled over and sat up. "You are _not_ giving me a sponge bath and neither are those... whatever they are. All I want is some fuckin' sleep and that's what I told them. Are you their knight in shining armor now? Going to come hold me down so they can clean me?"

Rick's eyebrow twitched at the thought. "Naw, they left. Come on, they said you're wounded. At least let me look and make sure it's nothing that we need Hershel to look at."

Daryl grumbled, but allowed Rick to kneel in front of him. Slowly, he removed his shirt, flinging it to the foot of the cot. Leaning over slightly to his right side, he pointed at two spots. "I brushed up against something here, and scratched myself here. That's all man. Ain't nothin'."

Rick nodded, still taking in all the other scars decorating the strong body in front of him. No matter how many times he saw them, they were still a shock. To Daryl, these scratches, no matter how deep, probably were nothing compared to the things he'd dealt with in the past, but how were the Woodbury women to know that? "You gotta be nicer to these people, Daryl. They just want to help you," he said, taking the wet cloth and reaching towards the first wound.

Daryl quickly pulled away, knocking Rick's hand away from him. "Said I'm fine," he huffed, reaching for his shirt.

As he bent, Rick saw fresh blood on the pale skin of the redneck's lower back. "What's this?" he asked, pushing Daryl over slightly to get a better look. He wasn't expecting the subsequent shove causing him to lose his balance. His body splayed out on the floor as he watched Daryl quickly pulling his shirt on before reaching a hand down to help him up.

"Sorry, said I'm fine though. Why don't you go help the other ladies prepare the meat I dragged all the way back here?" he said, side-eying him.

Rick didn't fall for the bait. "Daryl, you're hurt worse than you think. There's fresh blood on your back. Let me just see it. I don't have to touch it if it really isn't that bad," he lied.

Instead of complying, Daryl flipped him off and laid down on his cot, throwing a forearm over his eyes. "Goodnight, Grimes. Now leave me the fuck alone."

Rick sighed and stood up, glaring down at the obstinate man. A full minute ticked by before the expected tantrum started. "_What the fuck, man?_" Daryl screeched loud enough that Rick was sure everyone in the yard and anyone listening in on the other side of the door in C Block heard and scattered. His right arm flailed into the air, revealing the piercing blue eyes that were angry at his presence.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Daryl," Rick said slowly, his right hand going for the handcuffs that he had attached to the back of his pants.

Daryl huffed the hair out of his face as he contemplated his next move, the right side of his lips twitching into a smirk. "Going to handcuff me, _officer_?"

"If that's what it takes to make sure that you are ok, then yes."

Daryl stood up to stand toe to toe with Rick, the flicker of light in his eyes daring him to make his move. Rick had been in situations like this before, undoubtedly with people that probably came from something similar to Daryl's upbringing. He was prepared. A quick motion, knocking the redneck off balance, grabbing a wrist and with a flick of silver it was cuffed and attached to one of the bars facing the common area of the cell block.

"Fuck," Daryl groaned. "_Fuck,_" he repeated as he tested the handcuffs. With his one free hand he gripped Rick's shirt, pulling him up his face. The corded muscles in his arm flexed with each huffed word as he spit out, "Let me go."

Rick just grinned, knowing fully that Daryl could not and would not harm him, despite this bravado. "I will. _And_ I will let you go to sleep once I see what all this blood is about on your back. I'm just asking for some cooperation here, Daryl."

With a grunt and a huff, Daryl finally admitted defeat. A simple nod of his head had Rick making quick work of getting the shirt off of his back, letting it hang on the chain of the cuffs as Daryl gave the man his back. Gripping the bars in front of him, he braced himself for whatever Rick's reaction would be. He was unaware that the lawman had seen the extent of his scars before, sneaking casual glances as the man had changed off to the side of their camp or while he bathe in the occasional lake that they found.

Gentle fingers traced the scars on soft skin. Dark patches with such darker memories. Daryl's eyes closed as he felt the wet rag touch his back, wiping the blood away. "You knew this one was here. You had to. It looks like it stings. Why didn't you show this one to me?"

Daryl just shrugged, wishing for this nonsense to be over. "It'd heal on its own."

"Yeah but what if it got infected? You could get sick." Rick's voice betrayed his worry as he worked away at the long scratch low on the hunter's back. "What caused this?"

Daryl grunted, shifting from one foot to the other. "_What_ did this?" Rick tried again, allowing a more authoritative tone to enter his voice.

"Fell out of a tree," Daryl mumbled. He wasn't prepared for the abrupt bubble of laughter that came from the man behind him. "The hell's so funny, Grimes?"

"Nothing," he said, trying to stifle his laughter and his smile. Honestly, he was thankful it was just a tree and not the scratch of some kind of wild animal or worse, a walker.

"Ok, you saw it. Now let me go," Daryl grumbled, clearly through with all of this attention.

Rick just smiled and shook his head, tossing the rag over towards the cell door. "I kinda like you like this."

Daryl's eyes narrowed. He turned towards Rick, placing his back towards the open cell block, his hands clinging to the bars behind him. Something in that stance made Rick's heart flutter and heat course through his veins. "Kinda like me handcuffed in a prison cell?"

Rick snorted, as he moved in a little closer, placing his hands above Daryl's on each of the bars. He waited until the blue eyes finished their travel up his body before finally settling on his own. "Kinda like that I _know_ that you're _here_ and _alive._ If I have you handcuffed here, in my presence I know that I don't have to worry about you getting hurt or killed out there or worse, _turning_, and I'd never know. You just wouldn't come back here; you wouldn't come back to me."

A soft blush swept over the tanned features of the trapped man. "You know I'd always come back," he mumbled.

Rick's hands came up, gently pushing the dirty hair out of Daryl's face. "I know that you'd always try. I can't lose you too, Daryl."

Those hard blue eyes closed at the emotion in Rick's words. "Won't lose me," he mumbled.

Rick shook his head, leaning his forehead against Daryl's. "I need you. I…," his voice faltered, emotion choking him up. Before he took the time to consider the consequence, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against the chapped ones before him. The kiss was not returned. Rick broke the contact, taking a step back in the event a blow would be coming from the one free hand Daryl had. Instead, he was met with the sight of a lax body against the cell bars, eyes still closed, face scrunched up in a look of soft confusion.

"Daryl, I…," Rick said, starting to offer some kind of excuse, anything that wouldn't drive the man in front of him away. Panic coursed through him as time slowly ticked by. He had no excuse for what he had just done other than overwhelming emotion that he wouldn't dare call love. Perhaps adoration? Admiration?

Finally, Daryl just shook his head, blue eyes finally opening to him, the tears building up in them making his eyes shine. "I need you too," he whispered and Rick was back on him in a heartbeat.

Their lips met in a fervent, heated kiss. Daryl's one free hand coming around to grasp at Rick's back, holding the man impossibly close to his body. Rick's arms wrapped around the lithe, muscular chest, hands careful not to touch any of the new wounds as they grasped at the exposed flesh.

Daryl was the first to pull back, his blue eyes a violent storm of emotion and questions. "Not gay," he muttered.

"Me either," Rick answered. "Just…," he sighed, "just for you."

Daryl nodded, seeming to accept that response. "Now will you let me go?"

Rick snorted. "Only if you agree to take a shower." Daryl huffed and grumbled, pulling at his wrist still in the handcuff. "I just wanted to make good on my promise out in the yard."

With a snort, Daryl said, "Well then you need to take one too, farmer. Won't have you in my clean bed looking like that."

"Deal."


	2. Chapter 2

Walking back to his cell, Rick was met with Tyrese. "Everything ok? Someone said Daryl was tearing you apart."

Rick snorted, grabbing his towel and soap from this belongings. "Yeah, everything's fine. Daryl and I were just having a discussion about his safety."

Tyrese nodded, understanding the danger that Daryl put himself in every day he would go out hunting. It was something that he did not envy of the man. "Can I help in any way?"

Rick smiled slightly. "Yeah, keep everyone out of the showers for a bit." Tyrese just nodded as Rick moved past him and down the cell block.

As he neared the showers, he could hear the water already running. Rounding the corner, he stopped a moment, his breath stolen from his lungs by the sight before him. Daryl stood naked under the spray, water cascading down his body. His hands ran the bar of soap over his body, washing the dirt streaks off in little streams. The scars flashed red in the water and Rick resisted the urge to approach him and run his fingers over those wounds, whispering words of promise in his ears that no one would ever mark him again… Except maybe Rick. He grinned at the thought of leaving small love bites over Daryl's body; leaving sucking little kisses along his tanned skin and teeth marks in places where people might be able to see if they got close enough. That thought alone had Rick quickly removing his clothing before walking in the shower room, sidling up behind Daryl and wrapping his arms around his body.

Daryl stiffened in his arms, his hands going to the shower wall in front of him. "Rick," he whispered.

Rick smiled into the slick skin of his neck as the spray of the shower hit Daryl in the chest. "You had to have known I was there watching you."

Daryl just nodded, his eyes closed, face muscles clenching and unclenching as if he was fighting the inner demons in his head. "Yeah… just didn't think you'd come up behind me like that."

Rick immediately backed off, going and grabbing his own soap and turning on the shower next to Daryl. "Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you."

Shrugging, he turned around in the spray, rinsing his hair in the water. "S'alright. Just gotta get used to it, I guess. Long as it's you."

Rick quickly lathered himself up, rinsing off in the spray before clearing his throat and saying, "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you. We don't have to do anything that doesn't make you comfortable."

Daryl laughed slightly at his words, turning off the water. Walking over and grabbing his ratty towel, he mumbled loud enough for Rick to hear, "Never really been comfortable before."

Rick washed his hair quickly and turned off his own water, padding over to where Daryl sat in his towel on the bench. Drying off with his towel, he noticed Daryl's eyes were downcast, never really looking up at him. Taking his chin in his hand, he raised his face, bring those blue eyes up to his own. "You never have to be scared of me. Not scared of saying anything to me, looking at me, fussing at me, nothing."

Daryl just nodded as much as he could with his chin still in the other man's hand. "Trust you, Rick," he said simply.

Laying out his towel on the bench, Rick sat next to him completely exposed, suddenly aware at how nervous he had become himself, now that their main purpose was finished. He shuffled his feet on the floor slightly. "Tyrese is guarding the door so no one comes down here. He doesn't know… just heard you shout at me."

Daryl nodded again, but finally risked a look at him. Rick turned, waiting a beat before leaning in. "I'm going to kiss you again, Daryl." The lips before him parted slightly, blue eyes closing in anticipation. He moved slowly, allowing the thin chapped lips to guide their movement. The last thing he wanted to do was scare him. Bringing a hand up, he cautiously rubbed his cheek with the back of his knuckles.

Daryl swallowed the other man's shock as he turned his body fully, one leg up on the bench, wrapping his arms around the thin body of the sheriff, pulling him closer. Fingers came up to curl almost painfully in the unruly, wet curls as the kiss was deepened, a battle of tongues ensuing. Rick groaned into the kiss, enjoying the sheer power of the arms around him.

It ended suddenly, as Daryl pulled back, his hands though never leaving Rick's hair. His breaths came in deep huffs as his body reacted to the touch and proximity of the other man. Rick's hands openly roamed the chest of the man before him, fingertips brushing softly through his sparse chest hair. "You ok?" Rick asked.

Daryl wordlessly just shook his head no, fingers curling even tighter into his dark hair. A slight wince of pain had him realizing how strongly he was holding on. He left off a little, instead settling for running his fingers through it, almost lovingly. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Rick just smiled and flicked his thumb over one of Daryl's nipples, enjoying the sight of the pleasure on his hunter's face. "Like that?" he whispered. He nodded, opening his blue eyes to him again, darkened slightly with what Rick can only guess is lust. Running his hands around to Daryl's back, he leaned forward, whispering to him, "Trust me."

He nodded again, allowing the other man to lower him on his back and remove the towel from around his waist. The bench was too narrow for them, so Daryl set one foot down on the floor while the other pressed hard against the wall. Rick leaned over him, pressing his knee slightly against the hardening cock and soft balls before him, flicking his tongue over a taut nipple. Daryl gasped, his hands flying back into the dark hair as his hips ground against the invading knee, earning him a soft chuckle. "Guess that really does feel good."

Daryl laughed slightly, shifting a little on the bench, grinding his hips now into Rick's leg. Biting his lip, he clenched his eyes shut before whispering, "Don't stop… please."

Rick grinned against his flesh, shifting his weight to his left hand so he can trail his fingertips up his thigh. "Never," he whispered back, wrapping his hand around Daryl's cock and stroking it slowly. Daryl gripped his hair tight in his hands again, pulling his face up to his own, eyes wide with shock. Rick kissed him slowly as his hand worked, stroking up and down casually, occasionally brushing his thumb over the head. He was enjoying the soft sounds his hunter was making, squirming beneath him on the bench as his muscles involuntarily contracted and released with each pull. Pulling back from the kiss, Rick rested his forehead on Daryl's, his eyes clouded over, mouth mumbling incoherent words as his hand picked up speed. Rough hands pulled at his back, but Rick fought off laying his body down along the vibrating one beneath him. He wanted to watch Daryl get off. He wanted to see every emotion that danced across his face so he could etch them in his mind.

It ended too quickly for both of them as Daryl's eyes went wide, hips twitching as hot streaks of pearlescent cum shot across his abdomen. Rick stroked him until he started to pull away from discomfort, taking his own towel from the floor and wiping his stomach off.

Standing up, Rick ran his hands through his hair. Daryl continued to lay on the bench, eyes closed as he seemingly tried to remember how to breathe. "Thanks," he mumbled, unsure of exactly how to respond to someone else jacking him off.

Rick just shrugged, his lazy smile forming on his face as he took Daryl's hand and pulled him up. "We should be getting back before people start wondering what we're doing down here."

Daryl just shook his head as he stood. "You ain't… not yet…," he stammered.

"Its fine, Daryl. I can take care of myself later," he coaxed, reaching down to grab his clothes from the floor.

In a swift move, Rick found himself pressed up against the cool concrete wall, Daryl pressing against his body. "This ain't like that. I ain't gonna do that to you," he said, kissing him roughly, his own hand wrapping around Rick's cock between them. There was nothing gentle about it, exactly as had been expected. They stood there, Daryl's forehead pressed against his, sharing his air. Rick fought to main the heated eye contact with him, but with each flick of his wrist and ioh fuck/i where did he learn to do ithat/i had his eyes closing in pleasure, bucking his hips against the man in front of him.

In a brazen move, Rick knocked Daryl's hand away, switching their positions and pushing him up against the wall. Wrapping his arms tightly around the abused back, Rick rutted against the slender hip, pressing his hips almost painfully against the other's. Daryl keened in his ear at the sensation, his own hands clinging to any skin he could get ahold of, feeling the muscle in his back move against him. Rick knew it was too soon for him to go again, but with the brush of his own heated flesh against his, his cock stiffened. "iDaryl/i," he whimpered in his ear.

"iFuck/i, Rick," he moaned back, thrusting his hips back. They moved in a heated, almost painful friction.

Rick groaned, his fingers clutching painfully into Daryl's shoulders, his cock erupting between them. "iShit/i," he breathed, his hips stilling, resting his body against the warmth in front of him, laying his forehead against his shoulder.

Daryl, turned his head, kissing his forehead softly, wrapping his arms tightly around Rick as their breathing slowly returned to normal. "That was good," he whispered.

"Still not ok?" Rick asked softly.

Daryl shifted his weight, tightening his arms around him. "No… I'm good. This is okay."

Rick pushed back, running his hands through Daryl's drying hair. "Good. Let's get back."

Daryl just nodded, reaching down to grab his clothes from the floor while Rick did the same. "Yeah, now I'm even more tired. Thanks, Grimes," he said snidely.

Rick smacked his ass as they dressed quickly. "I promise you'll sleep like a baby now."


	3. Chapter 3

Minor touches Rick kept telling himself, minor touches. That's what you did with a scared animal that you were trying to lure. Though what they had done in the showers had been anything but minor. Watching Daryl's back as they made their way back to his cell, Rick remembered the press of skin, the flick of his wrist, the heat of their bodies working together… He had to bite his lip to keep from smiling, to keep from reaching his arm out and taking the other's hand. They had started something today. He wasn't sure what it was or what it might one day be, but one thing for sure was that they had started _something_ and to keep that something going, he had to focus on minor touches.

When they reached the cell, Rick hesitated at the door, not entirely sure if Daryl really wanted to take him up on his offer. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to hold this man close while his breath evened out into slumber, but that may be too much too soon. Minor touches, he reminded himself.

Daryl sat down on his bed, kicking his shoes off. Looking up at Rick briefly, he raised a hand and scratched the back of his head, his damp hair wetting the top of his shirt. "Never done this with a guy before…," he mumbled.

Rick shrugged. "Me either… I can just go-"

Daryl shook his head, "Nah, I said you could stay here. 'Sides, not like we didn't just… uh… what we did."

Rick snorted, moving to sit down next to Daryl on the bed, kicking off his own shoes and stripping himself of his shirt. It was still warm in the prison and Daryl's body radiated heat next to him. He could feel himself being side-eyed, so he feigned confidence in the matter, laying himself down, his back against the wall.

Daryl watched the man lay down behind him, like it was that easy. He hesitated only a moment longer before letting out a long breath. He decided that hell, maybe it was that easy. Following Rick's lead, he removed his own shirt, laying down on his side in front of the man who was patiently waiting for him, tucking the arm underneath his body under his pillow. A warm hand came over his side, fingertips gently dancing across his skin as it settled on his chest. "Is this ok?" Rick asked behind him. "Your heart is racing."

He wanted to scream out that _fuck_ no it wasn't okay. They shouldn't be here like this, allowing their bodies to be this close, and what they did in the showers was _definitely_ not okay because holy shit he wasn't gay. What he said instead was, "Yeah… s'alright." Daryl shifted slightly, allowing for a few inches of space between their bodies. "You got enough room?"

Rick kissed the back of his neck, pulling the hunter closer. "Too much room." Daryl's body went rigid as his back met the warm skin of Rick's nude chest. He felt Rick's heartbeat fast against his back, giving away his own nervousness. Something in his shoulder twinged suddenly, making him shift uncomfortably. He tried to adjust himself to be semi off his shoulder but not necessarily laying completely on Rick. That would just be more uncomfortable and awkward.

"You ok?"

Daryl jumped at the voice in his ear before responding, "Yeah, just don't normally lay on my side like this. Crossbow done fucked up my shoulder."

Rick shifted behind him, gently pushing him to lay on his stomach. "Trust me," he whispered. "Tell me to stop when you want to."

Daryl nodded, but still completely unsure of exactly what the other man was planning on doing. Now fully on his stomach, face sideways on the pillow, he watched Rick straddle his narrow hips. His knees sidled up against his ribs as he sat gently on his ass. Daryl grunted softly, closing his eyes as his Rick ran his warm hands up his back and over his shoulders. "I normally have lotion or oil for this…"

"Some in my bag…," Daryl mumbled. "Keep it for my crossbow."

Rick smiled and carefully got up to go rifling through the other man's bag that he took on runs, finding the small bottle at the bottom. "Lavender?" he asked, climbing back over, taking the top off and sniffing it.

Daryl shrugged as much as he could on the bed. "It's what I found. Beggars can't be choosers, Grimes."

Rick leaned down, his grin growing wider as he growled in Daryl's ear, "You, Daryl Dixon, are going to smell like lavender when I'm done with you."

The prone man could not help his snickers. "Shut it, Grimes. Get off me," he said, trying to roll over.

"Nuh uh," he responded, pushing Daryl back down onto the bed. "You're mine now, Dixon. Don't make me handcuff you again."

Daryl full out laughed at that. "You and them handcuffs are dangerous."

The warm hands returned to his back, wet now with the lavender scented oil. Gently they kneaded into the offending shoulder, fingers rubbing along tired muscles, noting the feel of the years old scars crisscrossing the soft skin. Daryl closed his eyes and groaned at the sensation. "Fuck, Rick."

Rick snorted, "I wonder how many times in one day I could get you to say that."

"Asswipe," Daryl retorted, his eyes still closed, body slowly relaxing into the thin mattress. The hands left his shoulder and moved to his other, repeating the motions before rubbing down his back, working out every kink that he felt.

Rick snorted as he sat up, rubbing his hands on his jeans and looking down at the beautiful sheen on Daryl's scarred back. "You're shiny now," he whispered. Leaning over to look at Daryl's face when he got no response, he realized that the man was dead asleep, his breath even and body limp. Rick smiled, laying back down against the wall and draping one arm over his hunter, nestling his face in the still damp hair, breathing in the scent of lavender and pure, clean Daryl as he drifted off to sleep.

Hours later, Daryl awoke, keenly aware of the weight pressing against his back. The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow in the prison. He could hear people below milling about as he slowly came out of his slumber. "Daryl?" a soft voice asked from outside the cell.

He groaned, really wanting to roll over, but the weight on his back wouldn't let him. "What?" he growled instead, opening one eye to see Carol peering in.

"Food is ready if you and Rick want to come down," she said, smiling slightly before disappearing.

Rick. _Fuck._ Daryl realized the heavy weight on him, throwing his weight behind his shoulder, lifting the other man off him and knocking himself off the bed in the process. Rick was thrown awake as his back met the cold concrete wall of the cell. "Shit, Daryl, s'ok," he mumbled sleepily.

Daryl blinked up at him from the floor, watching as Rick rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "You have sharp edges, man. That hurt."

"Carol," he breathed from the floor.

"What about her?" Rick asked, sitting up on the bed, putting his feet down on the floor, running his hand over his face.

"She saw us. Fuck," Daryl breathed, standing up and grabbing his shirt from the floor.

"Oh…," Rick said, pulling on his own shirt. "I'm sorry…"

Daryl shrugged, running his hands through his hair. "She won't say nothin' to anyone, but she'll have questions later."

"You going to tell her?"

"Break her heart? Naw…" Daryl sighed.

"Daryl… we don't have to… we can just leave it at what happened today," Rick said, cautiously. "I don't want to push you into anything that you're not comfortable with." His heart beat faster at the idea of just ignoring the fire that they had ignited earlier. He didn't want to lose the man as his friend and closest ally at the expense of the hint of something stronger.

Daryl shifted uneasily in front of him. He saw his out. Rick was leaving the door open for him. Bringing a hand up, he chewed at a hangnail on his thumb. "You didn't push nothin'. Wasn't anything I didn't want to do."

Rick nodded, but that still didn't answer his question. He wasn't willing to push though. Making for the door, Daryl caught his arm as he walked by, pulling him towards him. With only a moment of hesitation, Daryl pulled him closer, pressing his lips softly against Rick's. Fingers slowly uncurling from his arm, he pulled back, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. "I don't want to tell anyone yet. Not 'fore we know what we're doin'."

Rick nodded, a small smile forming as he raised a hand to run through Daryl's messy locks, arranging them back into place. "Course."

They walked down to the common area, smelling the deer meat far before they saw everyone. "Man, that smells good," Rick said loudly as they entered. Each man took their seat next to each other, close but not close enough to be suspicious.

Daryl's stomach growled as a plate full of venison and some form of vegetable that no doubt came from the garden Rick had been cultivating. Everyone was patting him on the back and thanking him for his kill, their gratitude something he would never get used to but silently appreciated even if he wouldn't admit to it. Carol watched them from across the table. Daryl telling her with his eyes that he was sorry. She nodded a quiet understanding, tilting her chin at Rick and smiling. He blushed slightly but nodded. No words needed to be spoken between them for a full conversation and he was thankful for that.

Glenn slid into the seat next to Daryl, looking down at his food and then over at him. Daryl gave him a questioning look as the Asian leaned over and sniffed him. "Dude… you smell good. Like…," he sniffed again. "Lavender." Rick snorted next to him as Daryl's face turned crimson. He had forgotten about the massage oil. "Smells good," he said and turned back to his food.

Daryl side eyed Rick, silently threatening the man beside him. Rick just shrugged and smiled, turning back to his food.


End file.
